Archive for June, 2006


My church does a little different spin on Vacation Bible School. They do a sports camp, called Crosstrainers, where kids, from completed Kindergarten to 5th grade can pick the sport they want to participate in for the week (basketball, soccer, softball, football, cheerleading, hiking & nature and maybe there’s something else I’m forgetting). We open with a time of Praise & Worship in the gym and there’s also “Huddle Time”. #2 is doing Basketball (poor Coach) and The Beautiful Dawta is helping with the little ones doing arts and crafts.

Yours truly is the official “paparazzi” for the event. I get to walk around and take pictures of all the goings on and last night, which was the first night, was so fun. Perfect gig for an ADDer such as myself who gets bored sitting in one place too long. Hopefully, I can blog some pictures (with the church’s most nifty digital camera) later in the week.

Bluegrass Baptist Church is at 235 Indian Lake Blvd. in the happenin’ town of Hendersonville. If you live out that way and your kid is interested, come on out.

A Mothership Lunch Day

I am Mothershipping at lunch today somewhere around 11:30. If any of y’all are going to be there say howdy. Doesn’t matter if you know what I look like, just stand there and scream “howdy”. My two bodyguards will be with me.

One More Post….

Pooh on Blogger. Picasa is a little more cooperative. I had to have a picture of our little friend on here.

This was in the summer of 2003 not long after Bogie the Dachshund came along. I still think adding the other two dogs kept Chloe’s spirit up and kept her going longer than she probably would’ve. Bogie and Chelsea kept her frisky and in charge. Posted by Picasa

Chloe wasn’t the prettiest dog in the neighborhood, nor the smartest, but, she was sweet.

Pedorthic Memories of Yesteryear

Everytime I see those commercials for Jensen Shoes, and Mr. Jack telling us he’s a registered Pedorthist, I laugh. Not because I enjoy making light of those who have odd feet, that must be a bitch to deal with. Not much normal about me, but, I do have normal feet, for which I am grateful.

I laugh because everytime I see that commercial, or hear him on the radio, I think of this girl I knew in 5th grade. Her name was Suzanne and SHE had weird feet, thus, making her one of Mr. Jack’s regular customers and she was very vocal about the fact that she didn’t get to go to the “normal” shoe stores to buy her shoes, like all of us ultra-cool kids did. “I have abnormal feet. I have to go to Jensens.” Well, praise the Lord!

Suzanne was one of these people that looked at the ceiling when she was talking. You know the type….they look heavenward when making a point. I’ve never understood what causes one to do that. I know she couldn’t hep it, but, it always made me laugh. She was like a little old lady with her bad glasses and even worse permed, short, curly hair (5th grade remember). It was at Suzanne’s house, at her slumber party, where I saw the “Dallas” episode where they revealed who shot JR. (Incase you missed that one, it was Krisitin).

Sadness upon sadness, Suzanne moved before we started Junior High. But, I did get the opportunity to see her again. A couple years later she came back to visit. My friend, Barbara and I hatched this plan to fool poor little, geeky-but-didn’t-know-it Suzanne. (As if Barbara and I had the lock on coolness. Trust me, we did not) We decided we would tell Suzanne that I had gotten married because I was pregnant. (We were clever, weren’t we?) Yes, at 14, I had stumbled into sins path and gotten knocked up. (Writing and remembering this is making me have a gut busting laugh and #2 keeps saying “What’s so funny?” Heh. I ain’t telling him). I didn’t know nothin’ about nothin’ and worse, didn’t even suspect nothin! But back to my pretend marriage. Barbara went and bought one of those $5 rings that could pass for an engagement ring. I can’t even remember what we said my “husband’s” name was but we went through with this devious plan.

It seems like Suzanne may have bought it, but, I don’t know if she did or not. I certainly hope my daughter, who will soon be 13, never takes part in any such hoax and even more so, I hope Suzanne, with her weird feet, has forgotten the stupidity.

How do we know if Jack Jensen is REALLY a “registered pedorthist” anyway?? What if he’s falsely claiming to be this, just as I claimed to be pregnant and married at 14?

Good Eatin’

So what do Smiff’s do when they are grieving? We shop and eat.

Kohls was having a half off sale on shorts today so me and the Beautiful Dawta mozied on up there and got her some britches.

I had gone to Farmer’s Market yesterday and gotten some fresh blackberries and since it turned out I couldn’t attend the big Blogger Meat Up at the Mothership, I am making a blackberry cobbler to take to the Motha In Law’s, where she has prepared us one of her fabulous feasteses.

Reminds me of my favorite episode of “Roseanne” where Roseanne’s father dies. Darlene makes the comment that “Why do people bring food when somebody dies?” Roseanne says “Yeah, not like it helps…..HEY WHO BROUGHT THAT CHOCOLATE CAKE?!”

I’m not comparing losing a pet vs. losing a person. My mother in law does what she does best to comfort us…feed us. That’s a nice thing.

Life goes on.


Me and the Beautiful Dawta took Chloe up to the vet and did what we had to do. I thought it kinda interesting that the vets office uses this pretty, flowerdy paper to print out the euthanization certificates. Usually, at the vets, Chloe would try to get up and get off the table, but, not today. Her back legs had pretty much given out on her. They asked if I wanted to be in there when they did it and I said I didn’t think so and asked them if that made me a bad dog owner and they said “Absolutely not.” Some want to stay and some don’t.

The Dawta and I both noticed how Chloe’s eyes seemed to be teary when we were telling her goodbye. Maybe it was just our imaginations. Our eyes were full and the hearts heavy.

I went outside and waited and I remembered the time I had brought Chloe to that same vet about 12 years ago to be boarded while we went on a trip. Chloe HATED leashes. Scared to death of them and wanted no part of one. She jumped out of my arms and took off running down the parking lot and I had to run like a madwoman to catch her before she got out into West Main/Gallatin Rd. traffic.

We brought her back to the house and our wonderful neighbor, Matthew, a big, sturdy guy, dug a good hole for us and me and the kids buried her. Each kid wanted to help cover the dirt. It was like they had to. That dog had been here longer than any of them and has been with them every single day of their lives.

Chloe went through a lot of life with us….births, a divorce, greeting each kid when they came home from their first day of school, a lot of nights I was alone with Mr. Smiff on the road, she was right there, being a good watch dog, always sleeping right under my head, if I got up, she got up, she got up, even if it was just to the bathroom. Gosh, Chloe even knew my dad, who has been dead nearly 15 years.

#2 asked me if Chloe was in Heaven. I told him I don’t know for sure, but, I feel that God has a special place for special pets. He has to. I hope so. Chloe is deserving of whatever special place there is for dogs when they die. She was everything a good pet should be: loving, forgiving, protective and a faithful little friend. There were times she drove me nuts because she had a nervous/insecure side to her, but, I’m glad I saw that ad in the paper that day in 1991 and that I brought her home, even though I was not sure what Mr. Smiff would say. She was so tiny, she fit into my hand and I hid her behind my back before I broke the news to Mr. Smiff that it was a girl.

Everyday when we feed the dogs, there’s this routine of Chloe being in charge of the food. The other dogs eat, pretty much when she said so. This morning, when she wouldn’t eat, they ate theirs and I noticed after I got back and done with everything, they had not touched her food. Normally, it’s a contest. Amazing how instinctive dogs are. Maybe they’re hoping she’ll be back later to eat. Who knows.

**Once again the wonderful Blogger is being contrary and won’t let me put a picture up. Look at the Flickr.

Almost Her Time

It’s beginning to look like my 15 year old dog’s time is about up.

This morning, Chloe is not eating, not moving much and at this moment is staring at her bowl of water, taking sips now and then. She’s not wimpering or anything but it’s not like her, when the food comes out, for her not to attack it and then tell the other dogs when they may eat. She has thrown up once and her food is just sitting there.

Mr. Smiff cut her hair a week or so ago and we were able to see how thin she is. Even though she has been, up until today, eaten really good, apparently, she’s not holding her weight.

If I take her to the vet, they’ll want to put her through a bunch of tests, which, frankly, I can’t afford and don’t really see the point in putting a 15 year old dog through. I guess I know what I need to do. I guess I need to just call them, ask their over-the-phone opinion and do what needs to be done.

I hate this.

***Her little nearly blind eyes are telling me that she’s ready. I called our regular vet and they said they can’t see her today unless I want to drop her off. Um, no thanks. I called Dr. Flatt’s office and they said to bring her at 11:30. She’s so thin, I’m afraid she’ll break if I try to pick her up.